Chapter 16

The waiting room was cold and unsettling in the silence amongst the group of five sitting quietly in their chairs; somehow blocking out the background noise of hospital beds and trays being pushed around throughout the hallways, Sam conversing with the woman at the front desk, and Clint informing Laura of the situation over the phone.

Scott sat to the left, occupying one out of the four empty chairs and across from him sat Bucky in a separate row just a small coffee table away. Their eyes were dull, much like the room, and neither seemed fazed by the nickel spinning by itself on top of the glass table.

Wanda sat in the single seat at the end and, distracted by her own thoughts, was absentmindedly using her powers to spin the shiny coin; ignoring the fact that they were still supposed to keep a low profile. They also didn't seem to mind the fact that little kids and their parents had gathered subtly to watch – or maybe the whispering was another thing they had managed to block out.

"Look mommy," one girl whispered in awe to her mother, "She's magic!"

The mother, seemingly unsettled by their presence, pushed gently but purposefully on the little girl's back, "Keep walking, hun." She wasn't the only one who didn't want her child near them. Others began to get up from their seats and move their kids away from them out of either respect or disgust.

One boy tugged on his dad's coat with one hand and pointed towards Wanda with the other, pleading, "Dad, can I get a picture with her?"

Wanda overheard the child's plead, raised her eyes from the floor, and the coin froze in midair. The dad stepped back with his son, not out of fear, but out of reason.

"Let's not bother them, Tyler." He whispered, bending down so his son could hear him, "I don't think it's a good time."

"Alright..." the boy shrugged, and then they were gone.

Meanwhile, Sam was at the front desk conversing with the woman who made the mistake of asking 'Sir, is there anything I can do to help?' The conversation started out strong, with Sam demanding she update him on Steve's condition, but now he was desperate; practically begging on his knees for something – anything she could give him.

"You're sure there's no word you can give us on Steve Rogers?" He questioned; refusing to believe that after three hours of them being here, they still hadn't heard anything from the nurses.

"Sorry, I'm afraid not." The woman said softly with a tint of pity in her voice.

"There's no update or anything on his condition?" Sam asked, receiving a headshake 'No' from the woman, and held his breath. "Not even one?"

The woman sighed, feeling genuinely sorry for him and the others, and she shook her head. "Sir, I promise you that when I do get an update, I'll let you know first thing. But until then, there's really nothing I can do."

Sam lowered his eyes, tuning out the middle of her sentence until 'There's really nothing I can do' and he cut her off before she could say anymore, "No, I understand." His jaw tightened as he realized that he might not get to see his best friend again. He nodded to the woman, "Thank you," and slowly turned to leave.

"Stay strong." The woman called after him softly as he took his seat next to Bucky.

Natasha didn't feel like sitting with the rest of the team, who all reminded her too much of Steve. She sat in the seat next to the window, separated from the group, with her knees tucked lousily to her chest. Her eyes were dead; cold. She refused to speak – as did everyone else, of course – but Natasha wasn't sure she'd ever be able to speak again. Not after what she saw. Not after watching Steve die on the operating table as the doctors scrambled to bring him back to life. Not after the jolt of fear that she would never hear her name on Steve's lips again. Not ever.

She couldn't tell whether or not he was alive still. She watched him flat-line, but she had run out of the room in shock too soon to see and hear his heart rate return to the monitor. She had watched him die – but she hadn't watched him come back to life. But surely, if he was dead, the doctors would have entered the room with sadness plastered across their faces hours ago to inform her and the others of Steve's death. So why hadn't they?

I don't know what to do with this, she thought as her chest tightened with worry. Please help me deal with this; with his death.

Bucky was watching her and had been for a while. He examined her from his seat; eyeing her up and down – desperately trying to read what she was feeling. And suddenly while doing so, he remembered something from his time as the Winter Soldier.

He had tried to kill her before – twice.

She had been with Steve on the bridge in D.C. two years ago when he had been sent to kill him under the orders of Alexander Pierce; the orders of Hydra. He chased her down – put a hole in her shoulder. That was the second time. The first was in Odessa in 2009. Hydra had sent him to take out an Iraqi scientist whose developments in nuclear engineering landed him on Hydra's radar in a negative way. Hydra saw him and his work as a threat, so they sent in The Winter Soldier to execute him. Natasha had been in the car when he shot out its tires and its driver, sending the vehicle over a cliff. When the dust cleared, he put a bullet through the engineer as instructed – but not before putting that same bullet through Natasha and nearly killing her as she jumped to cover him.

He knew she was familiar from somewhere, but all this time he was unable to pinpoint the memory. And now that he could; now that he was looking at her as she broke down – he felt sorry for her. Not only had she been so close to Steve that it was killing her slowly to see and feel him dying, but all this time she had put aside the fact that his best friend had tried to murder her because her relationship with Steve meant that much to her. Two times he had tried to kill her. Yet, she set that aside for Steve; probably continued to help him look for him after D.C.

Probably would've killed me then and there if it weren't for Steve, Bucky thought as he lowered his eyes, I know I would have, if I were her.

He felt guilty, regretting the memory. But he shifted his eyes towards her – alone and fragile in the corner – considered that nobody else was going to say something soon, so he might as well, and got up from his chair.

He stood above her for a couple short moments, wondering if she would acknowledge his presence or avoid his eyes like she always had. Definitely the second one, he thought, and carefully lowered himself into the seat next to hers; sighing.

Natasha blinked ahead, looked at him out of the corners of her eyes, and then quickly lowered her eyes back to the floor. She swallowed hard.

Bucky was taken aback. He could sense her hesitance. She's afraid of me... he figured; surprised by his own realization. I'm so sorry...

"I'm sorry," he repeated out loud, "that this is happening to you."

Natasha closed her eyes as if refusing to hear anything he had to say and she sighed deeply; lowering her eyes as she opened them again. "It's happening to all of us." She said simply and quickly.

Bucky exhaled, debating whether or not to press onward. "I know, I just..." he choked slightly on his words as he desperately searched for the right way to phrase what he had to say, "but I just... I figured you needed somebody to tell you that."

Nope. Definitely not the right way to phrase it.

Natasha sharply turned her face to look at him and she shook her head gently, "I don't want to be told 'sorry'..." She said flatly. "I don't want any of this."

Bucky smiled half-heartedly, "That makes two of us."

Natasha didn't shift her focus away from him. Her eyes were still locked coldly on his, as if she couldn't look away. She wasn't happy. She didn't want him here. Part of her wanted to scream at him and beat him to a pulp and tell him it was all his fault that they were even in this situation – which wasn't entirely false. But she knew if Steve wouldn't have wanted that while he was alive, he certainly wouldn't have wanted it if he were dead.

She was about to turn her head from him, afraid she might do something unforgiveable to him if she didn't, but then he mumbled, "I don't want him to die."

She kept her eyes on him dully. "You think he will?" She asked, her voice drained of emotion.

"I didn't say that." He corrected. But then he paused for a moment to consider it. He sighed and looked down at the floor, "Or maybe I just don't want to believe that he will."

"That makes two of us." Natasha mimicked. Bucky glanced up to see a small smile form across her lips. Or maybe it was a half-smirk. He wasn't quite able to tell the difference. He laughed softly, gaining confidence next to her. She didn't look like she wanted to rip his head off anymore... or perhaps she was just really good at hiding it when it was necessary.

She shifted in her chair. "You and Steve..." she started, "you were really close, weren't you?"

Bucky gave her a look.

Realizing how dumb the question sounded, she tried to redeem herself, "I mean obviously you were, but how did..." she trailed off; not quite sure where she was trying to go with the conversation. After receiving a chuckle from Bucky, she cleared her throat and changed the subject. "What was he like?" She asked. "Before the war; before Captain America?"

Bucky took a moment to ponder on the question. "He was something. He really was. He was ninety-eight pounds of pale skin, fragile bone, and serious hay fever."

"I guess some things never change." She smirked.

"I guess not." He returned. "He might not have had the muscles or the shield, but he was always somehow the strongest person that I knew – that I still know. He never backed out of a fight... even if the fight was three times his size and had really bad breath."

Natasha rolled her eyes and laughed softly, "Like I said: some things never change."

"And they didn't – he didn't. I mean, take away the uniform and the bulk and he's still the same person he was seventy-six years ago."

"I take it he's always been the golden-boy?"

"Kind of. If the war hadn't got in his way, and I hadn't put the idea of joining the army in his brain, he might've settled down with a nice girl and maybe even started a family like I hoped he would."

Natasha's face sunk. Right, she thought, family... "He wanted that?"

"Family? Absolutely. He would've gotten it, too, if it weren't for being Captain America and all."

"Uh huh..."

"Whether or not it's still on his agenda is questionable, but it would be nice to see him finally win a girl over."

"He's won over plenty of girls. And boys, I might add."

"That doesn't mean that plenty of girls have won over him."

Natasha lowered her eyes.

Bucky knew what she was thinking, and that he would probably get bit for what he was about to say, but he risked it. "I mean, you're probably up there somewhere–"

"Don't you dare." She napped.

"I won't. Sorry." He apologized quickly.

"Thank you." She said, annoyed by his comment, especially considering that if what he said were true, his comments wouldn't matter anything at all if Steve died today. Or tomorrow. Or whenever he damn well would.

There was a long pause.

Bucky held his breath again and brought it back up. "But why not?"

"You're treading on thin ice."

"I've been on thin ice since I tried to kill you 2 years ago – I've learned to tip-toe." He slipped. She shot him a look. I didn't know you even remembered that... she thought.

"Now, if there's even the slightest will at the bottom of your heart that can make you answer my question..." He tempted.

"I promise you: there's not."

"I don't believe you"

"Why do you care?"

"Because I care about him." He confessed, causing Natasha's hard expression to soften. "I want him to be happy."

Natasha shook her head, "And what's to say he'd be happy with me?"

"What's to say he wouldn't?" He argued.

"I asked you first."

"You asked me something that I can't answer. Only Steve can."

She stood her ground, "I..." she stuttered, scrambling to find the words, "Shit."

"You know I'm right." He bragged.

"And it scares me." She said truly. Bucky looked at her, expecting to see another sarcastic smirk across her lips, but she found her with her brow furrowed and her eyes drowned with worry.

"Don't let it," he offered. "Save that fear for something that calls for it."

She sighed.

They wallowed in the silence for the next half hour; unsure of what else to say to each other, seeing as Steve was the only thing they shared in common. Then Bucky acknowledged that and he spoke up, "Natasha?"

"Hmm?"

He exhaled and turned his chair towards her so that his whole body was facing her direction. "Did he make it okay on his own?"

Natasha pursed her lips, "Elaborate."

"When he came out of the ice; when he was adopted by SHIELD... did he manage to get by without someone watching over him?"

Natasha almost laughed, "He's a grown man, Barnes – he's literally a senior citizen if we're being technical. He got by just fine." She assured him as convincingly as she could before adding, "and he wasn't on his own."

"Who was with him?"

"Obviously Nick Fury, um–"

"Who?"

They shared a confused look before Natasha realized, "Oh that's right – you haven't met Fury yet. In that case, never mind."

Bucky looked at her with wide eyes; scared to death that 'Nick Fury' was someone Natasha had made up off the top of her head and that Steve had actually been on his own for a while.

Natasha flailed her hands, "Come on, he had the Avengers... he had me."

"Good." Bucky interrupted her.

"Good that he had people?"

"Good that he had you."

Natasha sat back and raised her eyebrow, "Sorry?"

"Every time I've seen him since he came out of the ice – starting with Washington two years ago – I've also seen you at his side. It seems like the other people you talked about have come and gone, but you've stayed with him. For that, I'm grateful." Bucky expressed genuinely.

Natasha narrowed her eyes in confusion, "Grateful?"

Bucky sighed, took his 'thank you' speech, and dumbed-it-down (a phrase he never thought he'd use when referring to the Black Widow) for her to understand. "Thank you for taking care of him – when I couldn't be there to..." He met her eyes, "He's very lucky to have you."

Natasha shook her head, suddenly at a loss for words, "I'm, it's not – you're being–"

"Don't object," he objected, sticking his hand in front of her face and pointing to the other Avengers. "I've got eye-witnesses. Take a leap of faith for once. You might be surprised."

Natasha looked away and thought about it – the idea of Natasha and Steve; Steve and Natasha. A cliché. She thought about the life she could have with him when he woke up...

Then she remembered where they were... and why they were there.

She whispered fragilely to Bucky, "Do you think the serum is strong enough to get him through this?"

He hesitated, caught off guard by the question. "I'm not sure. I think it'll get him somewhere."

She gulped, "Do you think he's strong enough?"

Suddenly Bucky grew uncomfortable and upset with her questions. He snapped at her, "Why does it matter what I think? I can't predict the future."

Natasha leaned back – surprised by Bucky's sudden change of tone. She stuttered, "I know, I just..."

"What?"

"Never mind. Thank you for the insight." She dropped it. She couldn't even remember why she was talking to him in the first place.

"You know what he'd always say to me?" He started. She glanced up at him, letting him know she was listening. "He'd say, "It's not about the size of the dog in the fight, it's the size of the fight in the dog.""

"Poetry at its finest."

"You know what I'd say back? I'd say, "Then buddy, you've got one hell of a victory ahead of you." And I still stand by that statement. So maybe I can't predict the future and maybe I don't want to – but if there's one thing I can guarantee you, it's that Steve won't go down without a fight. And by God, if it is about the size of the fight in the dog... death won't stand a chance against him."

Natasha exhaled. She couldn't tell if she were moved by what he had said or if she were intimidated by it. Death won't stand a chance... she closed her eyes, then you don't know death like I do.

"You know I wish I could believe that. I really do. But from what I've experienced – which is a lot... death wins every time." She said, and they were nose to nose. Bucky could sense that she was holding back tears.

As if on cue, a doctor walked into the room – causing all the heads to turn frantically to look at him. Natasha tried to get a read on him, but his face showed no emotion. Not until he opened his mouth to speak, that is.

He smiled, "There's someone who wants to see you all."

All the breaths being held in the room were released in relief and Natasha covered her mouth with her hand in shock.

Bucky nodded his head with relief and he glanced at Natasha and questioned, "Every time?"

~

After last update's dedication spree in honor of 5k reads, this chapter goes out to:mabelpinezzz CatherineNewitt Thatweirdfan01 -BellaVirginia- HayleyQuinn52 & 7thAvenger 💙❤️ Thank you guys for reading!! Next spree will take place at 10k reads and I will be following people!! HAPPY NEW YEAR🎈- _itsAfandomThing_ || Wattpad ;)